Epiphany
by 711LuvsRanger
Summary: Stephanie has an epiphany after the closet-sex scene in Explosive Eighteen. A realization about Ranger AND Morelli... M for adult themes, and language. Pretty angsty.
1. Epiphany

_AN: This one occurred to me as I was re-reading part of Explosive Eighteen – when they had sex in Joyce's closet – I had an epiphany about Ranger. I'm normally a complete Babe, but this one scene was really bugging me. Then I thought 'what if_ _Stephanie_ _had the epiphany? So then I had to write it…_

 _Disclaimer: they belong to JE, obviously._

* * *

 **Epiphany**

" _That's not your gun is it?" I asked him.  
"No," he said. "It's not my gun."  
When I finally tumbled out of the closet, I was missing some critical pieces of clothing, but I was feeling much more relaxed._

 _"I told Morelli."  
_ _"Then, I'm sure he's there with a cadaver dog. He's an idiot, but he's a good cop."  
_ _"Why is he an idiot?"  
_ " _He lets me get close to you."_

(Janet Evanovich, _Explosive Eighteen_ , page 76, Trade Paperback edition, 2011)

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 _He lets me get close to you._

Hi words played on my mind over and over as we left Joyce's house and got into the car to drive home.

 _He lets me get close to you._

What did that mean, really? _He lets me…_ well, not really. Or did he? Morelli was always trying to tell me to stay away from Ranger, but did he let Ranger get close to me? I didn't think that was really true. Or did I have no choice in this? Was it all between them? Is that what the fight in Hawaii was all about? Two alpha dogs fighting over their bone?

… _get close to you._ What did that mean? Certainly not emotionally. Ranger was completely closed off to me emotionally. Intellectually? Don't think that's true either. He never really talks to me about much, it's not like we have deep and meaningful conversations about world events. Or anything at all. Socially? Nah, not that either. He doesn't take me on dates. We only ever eat at Hayward Street or my place. He didn't even take me out to eat in Hawaii, we just kept ordering room service. So really, that just left one way he got close to me… physically, sexually.

He certainly did that in Hawaii. And again in Joyce's closet.

 _He lets me get close to you._

 _ **OHMIGOD! HOLY FUCK!**_

"What Babe?"

Uh oh, must have said that out loud. "Oh, nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing, Babe."

"Oh well, I just… I had kind of an epiphany."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Care to share?"

"Oh, not really no."

He smirked, "Not even with your _closet chum_?"

That got me irritated. "Well I was thinking about what you said, about how Morelli lets you get close to me."

"And?"

"And I don't think it's really very accurate. I mean he doesn't _let you_ get close to me. If Joe had his way, I wouldn't be anywhere near you. He doesn't like you, you know."

"Yeah, I'm aware Babe. _That_ was your epiphany?"

"Umm, no. Not really. So after that, I was thinking about what the phrase _close to me_ means. I mean, you're not close to me emotionally, I have no idea what you feel about me most of the time. If you even feel anything, I guess. And we're not intellectually close, you hardly talk to me about anything. And not socially, you've never even taken me on a date. So that only leaves close to me physically. And I realised…"

Ranger was silent, he seemed totally dumbstruck by my speech.

"I realised that… well, that I'm your fuck-toy."

 _"WHAT?"_

"Well, think about it. You only come near me to kiss me and feel me up, and fuck me occasionally. We don't date, we don't talk, you're not interested in a relationship with me. When you're done with me, you just push me aside like a discarded toy. A fuck-toy."

" _YOU ARE_ _ **NOT**_ _MY FUCK-TOY!"_

"Sure seems like it. So how would you classify us?"

"I thought we were _friends_. I _am_ emotionally close to you. And I _do_ care about you. And I would have thought that was obvious after Hawaii. _I don't push you aside like a discarded toy!_ "

"Humph. No. I don't think that works. I mean, if you had really cared that much after Hawaii, you would have come back after me and told me. You wouldn't have fought over me like a dog with a bone. You wouldn't have stood there with an amused, condescending smirk on your face and told me I couldn't hide from you. You would have picked my lock and beaten down my door and told me it didn't matter about Morelli. That you wanted me, a relationship with me. But you don't. You just want sex. With your fuck-toy."

" _FOR GOD'S SAKE STOP CALLING YOURSELF MY FUCK-TOY!"_

I was silent for a minute. Ranger seemed really pissed at me. But, honestly, I thought I was onto something. Maybe he was pissed that I figured it out. Maybe he thought I'd go back to Joe and stop being his fuck-toy.

 _Joe_. Did he really share me with Ranger as a fuck-toy? Let Ranger get close to me? No, I don't think he wanted Ranger close to me. I think it pissed him off that Ranger shared me as a fuck-toy.

 _ **OHMIGOD! HOLY FUCK!**_

"What THIS time? Another _epiphany_?!"

Uh oh, said it out loud again. Gotta stop doing that.

"Kind of, yeah. I just realised something else. Joe… he treats me like a fuck-toy too. He doesn't take me on dates. He doesn't talk to me about anything, not even his work. I think he's even given up on a permanent relationship with me, hasn't asked me to marry him in years. And he's the one who suggested we should see other people too. So… fuck-toy. Sex when he feels like it with no strings. Just like you."

Ranger seemed dumbstruck again. Had to be a record. I had struck Ranger dumb twice in one day.

"Shit. Fuck-toy for two guys. Only difference is Joe would want me to be his exclusive fuck-toy, no matter what he claims otherwise. You seem happy to share."

 _ **"** **WHAT?!"**_

"Well you do. You even sent me back to him the first time. And your only comment this time is that he's an idiot for allowing you to share me."

"Stephanie, for the last time, _you are not my fuck-toy_! And I _certainly_ don't share you with Morelli."

"Well, you're not asking for exclusive rights. Not when you tell me he's an idiot for sharing me. _OH! SHIT!_ "

"What NOW?"

"I just realised that you're _never_ going to want a relationship with me. You don't respect me. You couldn't. You'd never be willing to share me if you respected me, or if you saw a future with me. Well shit. I've been in love with two men for years, and they both see me as a fuck-toy. Shit. And I've let you both use me like that. I _did_. That's really depressing. That's like… I'm a slut. A _worthless_ slut. That's worse than being a fuck-toy."

Ranger wrenched the steering wheel over and pulled the car to a very abrupt halt. I jerked against the seatbelt as the tyres shrieked and looked over at him. He reached over and grabber my shoulders to force me to face him.

"OK, once and for all, let's get this straight. I don't know if Morelli sees you as a convenient fuck, or something more. Only you and he really know what you feel for each other. If it's true, then you should dump his ass and tell him to fuck off. But _I don't see you as just a convenient fuck_. You are my _friend_. One of my _closest friends_. You are NOT my fuck-toy, you are NOT worthless, you are NOT my slut, and you never will be. If we have sex, it's because we both want it. I'm extremely insulted that you would imply otherwise."

I shrank a little before his outraged anger. "OK Ranger, I hear you, I understand." He nodded once, sharply, and pulled out again to take me home.

 _But I don't really believe you. I'm a worthless slut. A fuck-toy to two men who don't respect me. Shit._

* * *

 _So what do you think? One-shot? Or should I keep going (AFTER I finish It's Not OK, I promise!)_


	2. Contemplations

_AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed Epiphany, I loved hearing your thoughts. My muse has been working well lately, so I have been posting on Its Not OK, but I got ideas that I just had to write here too! Hope you enjoy.  
By the way, if you struggle with Ranger's conversation here, I suggest a few shots of tequila! ;-D_

 _As always, JE is just letting me play…_

* * *

 **Contemplations**

Ranger raised his head slowly off the table, where he had been resting it, and looked up blearily as his apartment door opened. He made out two bulky black-clad shapes moving towards him. He tried to focus his wavering vision, and squinted at the larger, darker outline until a vague realisation came to him that this was Tank.

His head spun as he shifted focus to the other blurry outline, and he paused to allow the world to stop spinning. Eventually, he tried to remember what he was doing…

 _Oh yeah, who came into my apartment? Wait, someone was in my apartment! Maybe I should get my gun? Not sure if I could fire it though, world is still a bit spinny._

The other outline spoke and he vaguely recognised Lester's voice, "Ella was right. Completely wasted. Drunk off his ass."

Blurry Tank-shape agreed, looking at the empty bottle of tequila plus the one with about another half missing, "Not sure I've ever seen him quite this wasted, and we've both seen him after FUBAR missions."

Ranger tried to weigh into the conversation, "Ish a fubrar mishnen. Toden…tolally frubar."

Tank and Lester looked at each other. Lester asked, "What's got you so screwed up, _primo_?"

"She had pip…pif…pif-nee. She shaid see…she my fut-toy. _Not_ my fut-toy. My fw… _fend_."

Lester whispered to Tank, _"Pif-nee? Fut-toy?"_ Tank shook his head in equal confusion.

"She shaid Mow…Molelly and me make her our fut-toy. She shaid he…she's a worless sw…swut. _Not_ worless. _Not_ my swu…slut. My _fwend._ My _bess fwend_. Like Dan…Dank an' Lessa. And… Bob…Bob-ny."

Ranger looked very sad, "But she dinna buw…blieve me. Said she was my fut-toy. Then she had 'nuver pif-nee. Molelly fut-toy too. Mowelly 'n' me ushe her ash fut-toy an' frow her 'way."

Lester and Tank struggled to follow this garbled explanation. Lester tried to translate, "So Steph? Steph said she's a worthless slut? And Morelli and you made her your… fuck toy? And you… use her and throw her away?"

Ranger nodded, then tried to grab at the table to stead himself as the world spun again. But he missed the table and started to slide sideways off the chair. Tank jumped forward and grabbed at him before he fell over.

"Fanks," Ranger said. "Tol' her _not_ my fut-toy. Maybe coneny…comenient fuck for Molelly but my fen…fwen! But she loo-ted li' dinna buwieve me. She 'till tinks she swut. My faul'. Shoulda chased her bat fom Hamai-nee, but dinna." He nodded his head slowly.

"Den we ha' sets in cr…coset." A big, drunken grin crossed Ranger's face, "Wash goo'! Goo' sets…sec. Bu' now she tinks she jus' fut-toy. I fut-up."

"You had sex in Steph's closet? Why?" Lester was obviously still trying to follow this mangled tale.

"No! _Joyzes coset_ , not Bae's. Waiting for powice, so we ha' sets."

Lester still didn't really get it, but decided to let this little side-track go. Eventually he asked, "OK, so you fucked up. What are you gonna do about it now?"

A bewildered look crossed Ranger's drunk face. This was obviously a bit much for Ranger to contemplate right now. Slowly his confusion cleared to another brilliant grin, "Dink!" he looked around. "Where's my 'quila?"

Tank shook his head, "The tequila's gone man, you drank it all. Come on, we'll get you to bed."

Ranger shook his head again, "Don' wanna go bed wi' Dank. On'y wan' sets wif Bae."

Lester laughed out loud at that, while Tank resisted the urge to punch his inebriated friend for his stupidity. Lester grinned, "Come on Romeo," as they both helped Ranger to stand and shuffle into the bedroom. They helped him onto the bed and he groaned and threw his arm across his eyes, obviously dealing with another bout of dizziness. Tank stripped off his boots, socks and gun-belt and holsters, and went to lock the weapons in the safe in Ranger's closet. Lester went into Ranger's office and found a metal rubbish bin that he placed beside Ranger's bed in case he needed to throw up. Then he thoughtfully put a couple of bottles of water on his bedside table, before they left.

Shaking their heads the two friends left the apartment. They entered the lift when it arrived to take them to level 3. Bobby had been unable to join them on level 7, as he was dealing with a minor medical emergency when Ella had called. They were heading down to fill him in.

Lester was trying to hold it together as he thought about the funny/sad crap that Ranger had been spouting. He was managing barely until Tank leaned against the elevator wall, crossed his arms on his chest and muttered, _"Fucking moron!"_ Lester lost it, and Tank's mouth curled up at the corners as he watched his friend hold onto the elevator railing as he laughed his ass off.

They walked into Bobby's office, and Lester's eyes were still damp from laughter, as he called out, "We're back Bob-ny!" Tank just shook his head. Ranger was never going to live this one down.

Bobby looked up from his desk with a quizzical smile on his face, "What?"

"That's your new nickname," Lester smirked. He pointed at Tank, "He's Dank, I'm Lessa, and you're Bob-ny."

Bobby looked at Tank and cocked his eyebrow in a 'why' expression. Tank said, "Fucking moron on seven with his drunk talk."

"He's really drunk?" Bobby asked.

"Bottle and a half of Patron," Lester clarified. "Yeah he's well and truly off his ass."

Bobby looked concerned, "Should we get his stomach pumped or something? Should I be worried about alcohol poisoning?"

Tank shook his head, "I think he'll be OK. We put him to bed with a can to throw up in, and I locked up his weapons. He's just gonna have a massive hangover. Fucking moron."

Bobby shook his own head, bewildered, "But why?"

Lester chortled, "Well that's the million-donut question isn't it! And the answer is… duh, duh, dah! Steph! Of course. Plus, he's a fucking moron."

Bobby just waited, knowing he needed more information. Lester went on, "As near as we can figure it out, because his drunk-talk was truly unintelligible in parts, it goes something like this: he should have chased Steph back from Hawaii, but he 'dinna'. Then somehow, he had sex in a closet with her somewhere. Not sure on those details, couldn't figure that bit out. Anyway, after they had their closet-sex, Steph had a 'pif-nee'. She decided she was Ranger's fuck-toy. Or, in his word, 'fut-toy'. Then, apparently she had a second 'pif-nee' and figured out she's also Morelli's fuck-toy. So Steph decided she's a worthless slut, because she's letting them use her as a fuck-toy and throw her away."

Tank added, "I think he's tried to convince her he didn't see her that way; that she was his best friend, but he said she didn't believe him. So he drank himself into oblivion."

Bobby looked very concerned at this. Lester noticed his expression, "What? He'll be alright," he rationalised. "He deserves the almighty hangover he's gonna have. He _has_ been treating her like a fuck-toy by the sound of it."

Bobby shook his head, "I'm not worried about the moron on seven, you idiot. I'm worried about Stephanie. Who wants to bet she's sitting at home telling herself over and over that she's a worthless slut who lets men use her as a fuck-toy. We all know she's got no self-esteem, although god knows why, and this is just another example of that. Any other woman with two good-looking men panting after her would think she's some kind of sex-goddess. Steph thinks she's a worthless slut. What if she goes to Morelli and tells him about her epiphany? I'd put money he's going to say, 'OK _Cupcake_ , then the answer is marry me and you won't be a worthless-slut-fuck-toy anymore.' If she's down enough on herself she just might agree!"

The others looked worried too at this idea. Neither of them would take that bet, the odds were too short.

Bobby continued with his gloomy predictions, "Or what if she goes to see that shrew of a mother of hers in this frame of mind? What's she going to say? 'Yes, Stephanie, you are a slut, and you need to marry Joe Morelli as soon as possible, to redeem yourself.'"

Lester and Tank looked a little sick by this point. Lester no longer felt it was so funny.

Bobby said, "We've got to get him to fix this. _As soon as possible_. Tomorrow we sober him up and if he won't pull his own head out of his ass, we get the rope around his neck and do it for him! And we make him _fix this_. Now, before too much damage is done."

The three of them nodded. They headed for bed, knowing they had to be up early tomorrow for a little Ranger-intervention. They all just hoped they'd survive the session on the mats if Ranger _wouldn't_ pull his head out of his ass!

* * *

 _So is Steph sitting at home depressed and crying, or is she out there kicking JM butt for treating her like a 'fut-toy'?! And how will the intervention go? Stay tuned… :)_


	3. Clarification

_AN: I know! You're totally shocked right? You'd basically given up on me ever updating this? Well, so had I, almost. :-) But somehow, tonight, I sat down, and started writing. Even more shocking, I started writing this story! My muse just seemed to take over. Believe it or not, I've written the next chapter as well! Now I've just got to keep the momentum, and maybe, just maybe, I'll finish this story. Stranger things have happened…_

 _Disclaimer: They belong to JE, obviously._

* * *

 **Clarification**

"Do you respect me?"

Joe's head jerked around from my TV, obviously not expecting the question, "Wha..? Huh?"

"I said, do you respect me?"

"I guess. I mean, of course I do. I… why are you asking?" he stumbled.

"Well, I mean respect like… it just seems like… No, forget it, it doesn't matter."

He continued to look at me for ten seconds or so, before turning back to the TV. In a minute he was engrossed in the hockey game again. I watched the game for a couple of minutes, but it couldn't hold my attention, especially since the Rangers weren't playing. I was pretty sure it was Pittsburgh but I couldn't be bothered to figure out who they were playing.

"Why don't we ever go on dates?" I tried a different angle.

"What? You and me, you mean?" he was distracted trying to talk to me while still watching the game. "We do, Cupcake, what do you call this?"

"You watching hockey."

He glanced at me before looking back as the action moved up to the Penguins' goal, "We're watching it together aren't we? Like we always do. It's our thing. Pizza, beer and hockey. We always do it."

"But why can't we ever do anything else? Like go out to a restaurant? Or go dancing?"

He shook his head absently, "I don't dance."

I sighed. He finally turned his head to look at me fully, seeming to realise I was making a point. "What brought this on Steph? What's the problem? Did _he_ take you out to dinner and dancing in Hawaii, so now I'm expected to do it too?" he asked bitterly.

I blushed. Actually we had eaten in the resort restaurant one evening, and danced together, but I didn't think telling him that would help my argument. "That's not really what I meant. I just meant, we never do anything different, anything spontaneous, you know? We never go out, we always just eat at your place or my place and watch TV..." I hesitated, this was still a bit of a sore point between us since Hawaii, "…and then have sex, you know… sometimes."

He looked away, "Well, we can go to Pino's tomorrow, if you want." I heard him mutter under his breath, "At least _I_ get the sex again, apparently."

I felt like I had been slapped. It seemed to confirm my theory that he was really only jealous of Ranger for the sex. I wondered if Ranger was prepared to give me the romance without sex, if Joe would even have a problem with it. If Ranger took me out for dinner and dancing, then dropped me off at Joe's for sex, I wondered if Joe would think that was a sweet deal. Maybe he'd want me to bring a pizza too.

I realised that I was right, he _does_ treat me like a fuck-toy. He's just more jealous when others play with me than Ranger is. I tried to remember if he'd _ever_ taken me out on a date, beyond family and work functions. Pino's. I was pretty sure that was it. And mostly it was take-out, not eat-in.

"Joe, I know I screwed up in Hawaii, but is Pino's and sex really all you think I'm worth? I can only apologise so many times, but if all I'm worth to you is pizza, TV and sex, then I can't help wondering if it's even worth trying."

He gaped at me; that actually came out sounding a bit assertive. "Whadda you mean?"

"I mean Joe, _what am I worth to you_? Am I worth more than a couple of hockey games on TV and a fuck at half-time and afterwards? If hockey and beer is _our thing_ , why don't you ever take me to the games live? We could easily go to New York or Philly, but we only ever watch them on TV. We could even take a trip to Pittsburgh, if you're so keen on watching them." I flicked my hand towards the TV. "You don't dance. Pino's is your idea of taking me out to eat. Do you do _anything_ other than watch TV and eat pizza?" I allowed my frustration to show.

"Joe, you once told me you wouldn't love me as much if we couldn't have sex. But is sex really all I am to you? Sex and a TV buddy? Because that's not a healthy relationship, that's just a convenient fuck."

His jaw dropped, but no sound came out. His ears became a little red though, a sure sign he was getting angry. I thought this was probably the only chance I would have, and continued before my courage deserted me.

"When I asked you to come away with me on holiday, I thought I was giving you a pretty strong indicator that I wanted more with you. More of _something_ , excitement, romance, adventure, time together, whatever. More of _anything_ than what we share her in Trenton. But you wouldn't come with me. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed with Ranger when we found the Rug, but I wouldn't have even considered staying there with him if you'd come with me in the first place. I probably would have called him and let him deal with it, because I would have been there with _you_."

I sighed heavily, "But now here we are again, right back where we were. Doing the same things, no hope for anything more. Oh, there's more resentment and guilt. But no more of anything else. It's just… it's just sad Joe. It's sad that this is all we are."

His expression had darkened as I talked about Hawaii, and I could see this wasn't going to go well. It was probably just going to degenerate into another shouting match about everything I'd done wrong.

"In case you've conveniently forgotten, I _came_ to Hawaii after you. I felt guilty about not going with you, and I took some of my leave and followed you. Only to find you shacked up with _him_. Obviously I wasn't worth waiting for," he spat. "You want _excitement_ , you want _adventure_. Is that what you get with _him_? Or is it just sex with him too? You think I treat you like a _convenient fuck_? What do you think you have with _him_ that so much more?"

I looked at him and a tear tracked down my face. "Yes, Joe. You're right. It's just sex with Ranger too. Like you, he only sees me as a convenient fuck. I really hoped for more with you. I dreamed of more with him. But neither of you think I'm worth more than a fuck-toy. Neither of you think I'm worth a real relationship. I hope that makes you happy."

I caught my breath on a sob. "Well, I'm done. I'm done being your half-time fuck and I'm done being his occasional distraction. I'm done being a worthless slut. Neither of you respects me, neither of you wants more with me. So I'm done. _Get out_."

He looked at me incredulously, "You're throwing _me_ out? Because I didn't take you to Hawaii or because I didn't want to _romance_ you the minute you get back from your little vacation with your other fuck-buddy? You want me to come crawling back on my knees because you were just looking for adventure? You really think you can waltz back to Trenton and be treated like a princess after _that?_ After what you did? Don't flatter yourself Cupcake. I don't need this anymore. You're not my fuck-toy anymore. You're right, you're not worth it. _I'm_ done."

He stood and stomped to the door, then stopped and pulled my key off his key ring. He threw it across the room at my feet. "Don't bother with my key, I'll get the locks changed. Have fun being _his_ fuck-toy." He slammed the door hard, rattling my windows.

I broke down and sobbed. I needed alcohol and ice cream and _lots_ of it.

* * *

 _AN: It's a short one, I know. Next one is longer, promise. I love reviews! [insert shameless begging] :-)_


	4. Intervention

_AN: A little more humour this time, though still a little angst. Thanks for all the reviews, I do love them so much. Like getting little hugs for what I write! :-D_

 _Disclaimer: They belong to JE, obviously._

* * *

 **Intervention**

"Bomber." A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder.

She mumbled, "S'me. Bom-ba. Life bwown to shi'. Drop da bomb. Boom."

The bartender shook his head, "She's been saying shit like that all night. Never seen anything like it. One and a half margaritas and she's lying her head on the bar mumbling shit."

"She can't handle her drinks."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Bomber, Steph, it's time to go. Let's get you home."

She blearily looked up at Bobby's concerned face, "…'m I your fuck-toy now?"

He gulped, "Umm, uh… no Bomber. We just want to get you home to bed… umm, I mean... You can't sleep here, Steph, we just want to get you home safe."

She laid her head back down on the bar. "Nob'dy's fuck-toy no more. No more snut."

Tank came forward and picked her up, carrying her like a baby toward the door. Bobby dropped a couple of fifties on the bar and nodded at the bartender, "Thanks for calling us."

"No problem. I'm just glad I remembered seeing her in here with you guys. She's a fun drunk though. Some of the shit she says…" he walked off, shaking his head in amusement.

Bobby got in beside Steph in the back seat, and helped Tank strap her in. Tank jumped in the front and Lester started the car and they motored off. Lester asked, "What happened?"

"Dunno. She was drunk from one and half margaritas and mumbling stuff about being a fuck-toy to the bartender," Bobby replied. "Luckily he's seen her in there with us doing a distraction so called us."

Tank continued, "Obviously this is more of the shit with Ranger. Fucking pair of idiots."

Bobby shook his head, "We can't let this keep going on. If they keep drinking themselves into oblivion because they can't talk to each other, one of them is gonna end up doing something truly stupid. I mean seriously, imagine if one of them picks up a one-nighter while they're drunk?"

Lester winced, "So what do we do?"

Bobby sighed, "Intervention. But the question is, with each of them one at a time, or both together?"

Tank grunted, "Huh, quicker to do it together."

"But maybe not as effective," Lester's comment was surprisingly insightful. "I say try her. I don't think Steph's in a place where she's listening to Ranger at the moment. Plus, he's not gonna participate willingly. If we put them in a room together, he'll go silent and she'll go stubborn. Fuck, he's gonna be a nightmare to even _try_ an intervention, we might want to pack for Siberia before we give that a go."

Bobby nodded, "Yeah, he's not going to come willingly. Well, so, should we try Steph?"

Lester nodded, "We'll take her home, then drop by tomorrow morning with 'The Cure'. She'll be cranky and hungover but at least she might be too weak to run away."

" _Late_ tomorrow morning, she's gotta sleep this off. But it's worth a shot."

I turned over, wondering why someone was trying to drill a hole in my head while shining a blinding light in my eyes. Had I been kidnapped again? Was I being tortured?

I sighed in relief as a shadow passed in front of the blinding light. I heard, "Hey Bomber."

"Don't yell at me!" I whispered.

The voice dropped to a murmur, "Steph, I wasn't yelling. If you get up, we've got 'The Cure' here in the kitchen."

I squinted through my lashes and saw Lester's face silhouetted against that blinding light. "Can't you turn that light off?"

"It's the sun, Beautiful. I'll shut the curtain."

The light dimmed somewhat. _Thank God_. Something of what Lester had said penetrated the pain haze from the drilling in my head. He said 'The Cure'. That would mean I was hungover. Why was I hungover? Still… "The Cure? Really?"

Lester smirked, "Yes, really Steph. In the kitchen. Can you get up?"

I wasn't really sure if I could get up, but now I could smell the fat-laden fries and I was motivated. Slowly, I swung my feet off the bed and sat up. I paused for a couple of minutes until the room stopped swirling around. Eventually the throbbing in my head settled to a bearable bongo rhythm and I used one hand to push up to stand beside the bed. I paused again while the room spun, then began to shuffle into the kitchen, holding onto the walls as much as possible.

I sat at the kitchen table in front of the fries and took a salty, lardy bite. I chewed, and swallowed. Another. A sip of coke. Another fry. More coke. I felt the drilling in my head recede a little and squinted up at Lester again, "Ketchup?" He pulled a couple of little packets out of his pocket and thoughtfully ripped them open. I squeezed them onto a plate that someone set down beside the coke, and mashed some fries into the ketchup. "Ahhh…" I sighed.

The fat, salt and sugar started to work on the hangover and I became aware of other the people in my apartment. I looked around hazily and saw Bobby hovering nearby, while Tank leaned against the door frame into the kitchen.

"Whaa?" I asked with a mouthful of ketchup-laden fries.

Bobby shook his head, "Only you Bomber. Do you remember anything from last night?"

I frowned as I took a big gulp of coke. Luckily they had got me the jumbo size, I really needed it this morning. "I remember sitting with Joe watching hockey. Was that yesterday?" I stuffed in another fry.

"Who was playing?" Lester asked.

I chewed thoughtfully for a minute before swallowing, "The Penguins?"

"No that was day before yesterday Steph," Tank replied.

Suddenly my memory of that evening sharpened. They watched as my shoulders slumped and I deflated. I toyed with the fries on the plate and took a delaying sip of coke. The silence deepened and became oppressive. Eventually I couldn't take it, "We had another big fight. Usual stuff."

They continued to look at me, and I looked down at the plate and stuffed another fry in my mouth to prevaricate. Eventually I mumbled, "Over now. Over for good."

Lester came and sat beside me, "You and Morelli are over for good?"

I nodded dejectedly and played with the straw, "We had another really big blow-up about Hawaii. Well, kinda. Also about…"

"Ranger." Tank guessed. I looked up at him briefly and nodded.

"Well they're both the same topic really. But we also fought about… other stuff. Personal stuff." I ate another fry to close off the topic, or so I thought.

"Did it have anything to do with you asking me if you were my fuck-toy last night, while you were half asleep on a bar?" Bobby asked gently. I nearly choked on the coke I was sipping again.

"Oh God!" I groaned, "Tell me I didn't!"

"The bartender at the Ivy said you semi-passed out after one and half margaritas. You were lying on the bar, mumbling stuff about being a fuck-toy, or rather about _not_ being a fuck-toy. Fortunately, he remembered you from a distraction you did with us last year and called the control room." Bobby explained, "Luckily Lester was monitoring. We came to pick you up and you asked me if you were my fuck-toy now. Wasn't really sure what to do with that Bomber. Don't think Ranger would approve." The corners of his mouth quirked.

I snorted involuntarily, nearly snorting coke up into my nose, "Huh. Can't see why. Doesn't seem to mind sharing with Morelli. Why not you?"

"I thought you said it was over for good with Morelli?" Lester asked.

"Well yeah, after last night it is." I frowned, "The night before I guess. I seem to have lost some time. I know I'm a cheap drunk but I can usually handle more than one margarita. Maybe I was drinking before I got to the Ivy?" I shook my head slightly, then paused, I was still a little dizzy from the hangover. "Anyway, I didn't say _Morelli_ was happy to share. But Ranger seems to be okay with it. Although, if it's anything other than sex, I don't think Joe'd care either," I muttered bitterly.

Tank came and squatted down beside me, almost at the same level as my downcast head, "Steph, I think we're missing some information here. Why don't you fill us in? You know you can trust us. Locked vault."

I looked at him and tears formed in my eyes at his caring expression. His own expression turned to panic at my tears and I chuckled wetly. "Don't worry I'll try not to cry on you," I smiled slightly. His expression cleared back to the look of concern.

Slowly, I began to explain, "I had a kind of epiphany… about Ranger. I realised that he seemed to be willing to share me with Morelli, more or less, and just have sex when I was available. So I thought… he doesn't respect me. He couldn't. Not and have that kind of relationship with me. Not that he'd call it a relationship, of course, he doesn't do relationships, or maybe he just doesn't do them with me…" I rambled. They were watching me intently, and I looked down to avoid their gazes.

I took a deep breath and continued, "So I realised, he wouldn't want me for anything other than a fuck-toy if he couldn't respect me. Then I thought, you know… Morelli treats me like a fuck-toy too. We don't go on dates, we don't do anything except eat pizza, watch TV and have sex. When I confronted Ranger about it, he denied it, but I could see it was true anyway. Then I tried to talk to Joe about it, and we had the big fight."

I tried to blink the tears out of my eyes and took another fortifying gulp of coke, "So I guess that's it. It's over for good with Joe, and I'm not gonna be Ranger's fuck-toy anymore. Guess I went out and got drunk. Trying to forget or something. Sorry you guys had to deal with my mess. I can pay you back the bar tab, and I promise I won't go out drinking again. It's just one more thing I'm no good at anyway…"

Bobby walked around the table and sat in front of me and took my clasped hands in his. Lester draped his arm around my shoulders. Bobby said, "Stephanie, we don't care about the mess, we're always gonna be here to help you. Steph, I think you're wrong about Ranger. I don't know what screwed-up shit has happened between you two, but I think something has gotten lost in translation. Ranger doesn't consider you a fuck-toy and he does respect you. He loves you. More than that, he likes you, he admires you."

Lester said, "He calls you his best friend." He swirled his finger around the four of us, "Along with us." He smirked slightly at a memory.

Tank added, "You make him smile, laugh. Don't you know how rare that is?"

I shrugged, "I know I'm listed in his budget as entertainment."

Tank shook his head, "No, that's not true. You misunderstood that too. Ranger was asking me how we could deal with the expenses when he gave you cars, or put men on you. _I_ suggested we just pad the entertainment budget, since he uses that to take clients out and pay for limos and private planes sometimes when he has to. It was the easiest place to pay the expenses without you being an official Rangeman client."

I stared at him, "He made it sound like I was just entertainment to him, like I was just an amusing distraction. He's always doing things like that. Always qualifiers on everything, even when he's being sincere." I pulled my hand back to eat more of the now-cold fries.

"What makes you say that?" Lester queried.

"He says shit like, 'I love you, but my love comes with a condom, not a ring'. And 'maybe, someday' we can have a relationship. I know he cares about me some way, but it's always got an escape clause, you know."

Tank and Bobby muttered simultaneously, "Fucking moron!"

Lester tightened his arm around my shoulders, "Obviously, my cousin has a serious case of 'head up his ass' when it comes to communication, especially with you Steph. But he cares about you more than he's able to tell you."

He hesitated, then continued, "We knew some of the fuck-toy conversation, because we found him in the same state as you afterwards. Except he was a lot less coherent and it took a bottle and a half of tequila to get him there. But the one thing he kept saying was that you were his best friend. Or in his words, 'bes fwen'. Steph, you can't have someone as your best friend if you don't respect them, if you don't love them."

Bobby added, "Steph, he'd never consider you just a fuck-toy. He's not a saint when it comes to women, Rachel being a case in point, and obviously he's able to attract them without trying. But he's never treated them like sluts, never been a 'fuck-and-dump' kind of guy. Even the one night stands, he's always treated them with some respect. And with you… well, it just wouldn't even enter the equation."

Lester added the kicker, "And he does _not_ believe in sharing women. Trust us, we'd know. The rest of us have had some experiences… well, you wouldn't want to hear about those, but you can take it to the bank Steph. If it seemed like he was okay sharing you with Morelli, you were reading him wrong. He doesn't share, and he _hates_ when you're with Morelli. We've all seen it in the past."

I looked at Lester for a minute. "It wasn't just that. Not exactly. It's more that he doesn't share _anything else_ with me. The reason I think I'm his fuck-toy is he doesn't share anything else. We've never been on a date. He doesn't talk to me about anything other than occasionally work if one of us need help. I don't know his brother or sisters' names or if they live in New Jersey or New York or Paris. I don't know if he votes republican or democrat. Or even if he votes. I don't know his favourite food. I don't even know why he's called Ranger, for fuck's sake. He's closed off to me, totally unknown."

I sighed, "The only thing he shares with me is his body on rare occasions. So, how can you be best friends with someone who is so totally unknown to you? Mary Lou is my best friend, I know _everything_ about Mary Lou. Fuck, I know just about everything about _Morelli_. I basically know about six things about Ranger that I could share in a conversation. So no matter what you say, I still feel like a fuck-toy."

Bobby squeezed my hand that he still held, "Bomber, people are individuals, and you can't compare your relationships. People like Ranger and Tank," he inclined his head toward the big guy "they just don't really talk much. And Ranger has been taught to compartmentalise _everything_ , it's part of being a soldier and being in a war, and being Ranger he takes it to the extreme. Plus, he's never really dated _anyone_. I mean think about it, his only serious relationship before you was with Rachel, and she was a one night stand that accidentally got pregnant. He didn't date her. And all the other women, it's just been about mutual sex, not dating."

He continued, "The things you _do_ know about him; that shows what you mean to him. About his daughter, about where he grew up and the fact he went to juvie, about his business. I mean Ranger trusts you with his _business_. That's massive, Steph. He has never let another woman into his apartment, other than Ella who doesn't count. _Not ever_. Steph, you may not know everything you want to know about him, but what you do know speaks volumes. You can't discount his trust in you and respect for you because you don't know his political views or where his sisters live."

I hung my head. Lester said, "Bobby's right. I know just about everything about Ranger, about _Carlos_ , because we grew up together. Just like you and Mary Lou. Or even Morelli. What Tank and Bobby know, and they don't know everything, they've learned through years of shared experiences, not because Ranger sat them down for a heart-to-heart." I chuckled a little reluctantly.

Tank spoke up, "It's hard for men like us to open up. I couldn't do it with Lula. Ended up pushing her away, though I think that was pretty much doomed anyway." I smiled. "But Steph, just because we don't talk about our feelings, don't mean we don't have them."

I leaned over and hugged him, to his surprise. But he immediately hugged me back. I took a deep breath, "I understand what you're all saying to me, and you've made some good points. I still think Ranger needs to sort out his shit, because his communication skills suck majorly. But maybe I've misinterpreted some of it. I want him to be more open with me, but I've never been game to ask him many questions. Always worried I'd end up in a box to South America or something. I'll try and talk to him, I swear."

I looked up at the three of them. "Just not today, okay? I still feel like shit and my head's still spinning. And I desperately need a shower and a toothbrush. And coffee, lots of coffee." They all chuckled. I stood up and went around and gave them all a hug. "Thank you for the rescue last night. And for 'The Cure'. And for the pep talk."

Lester was still holding me. "One more thing, Steph. If he can't pull his head out of his ass, and it really is over with Morelli? Well, just know that there are lots of other guys out there who think you're really special, and would give up their left nut to be with you." He waggled his finger among them, "You don't even have to look far," he smiled and Bobby and Tank nodded.

I smiled back and gave him an extra hug. "Thanks," I whispered.

* * *

 _AN: More reviews? Pretty please? Sending back my own virtual hugs._


	5. Correction

_A/N: Hi there, back again. Time to short Ranger's shit out? If that's even possible… :-) Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I read them all, and appreciated every word._

 _Disclaimer: They belong to JE, obviously._

* * *

 **Correction**

I sat in my office. Some might say I was sulking, but they wouldn't say it to my face. At least, not and survive the experience. Although, maybe, if I was honest with myself, that's what I was doing.

Five days after my embarrassing bout of alcohol-induced disclosure and my core team were still unimpressed with me. They had tried to talk to me the next day, after I managed to drag myself downstairs in the afternoon, but I locked myself in my office and ignored them. The next morning I made it to the gym at the usual time to work out and found a delegation waiting for me. They let me go through my usual routine, and Tank even gave me a workout on the mats. But they wouldn't let me leave when I turned to go.

Tank had blocked the door, while Lester had threatened to call my mother if I didn't talk to them. I gave them my patented look that promised a trip to the Sahara, but they refused to back down. Then they proceeded to berate me for my treatment of Stephanie and my stupidity in getting almost comatose with tequila. I refused to answer their questions and bore their harangue with as much stoicism as I could, before finally escaping, to their frustration.

Since then, things had been cool. I could tell they were still pissed that I wasn't talking or trying to patch things up with Babe, but I just didn't know how to start. Feeling unsure of how to proceed was not a common feeling with me since I was a teenager, and it left me floundering.

I knew my anger with Tank, Les and Bobby was just masking my embarrassment at my reaction and my humiliation at them seeing me at my worst, not to mention their interference in my relationship with Steph. But I was struggling to let go of my anger, because I didn't know what to do with my other feelings. I didn't have an answer for this.

I sighed, and turned back to the pile of paperwork that seemed to be an endless part of running a business. I'd never really envisioned this as the direction my life would go. When I imagined the security business I would build after I left the Rangers, I saw myself designing systems, catching criminals, and having high-powered discussions about security concerns with clients. Not signing timesheets or performance evaluations or discussing tax deductibles and insurance claims with a bunch of sticks-up-their-asses lawyers. This had been my dream, but sometimes I struggled to remember why.

Some of it I could leave to Tank, he had graduated with the business degree from Georgia State, while I had only done two years of it at Rutgers. Tank had worked as a logistics specialist in the Army before joining my Rangers team. He was good at the paperwork, although I knew he really preferred to be out in the field with me as well. Maybe not at the moment so much, but generally. But even with Tank's help, there were some things I just had to handle as the CEO, much to my disgust.

Thankfully, my phone buzzed with a message from the control room that my two o'clock was waiting in conference room 1. I stood and gathered a few things I needed, checked my weapons and grabbed my jacket, before heading down the stairs to the second level. Our two conference rooms were on the second level, along with some additional offices that were not in use at the moment, storage rooms and Brown's infirmary.

I walked into the room, not really sure what to expect with the client. They had set up the appointment yesterday to discuss a personal security system, and I really only had a name, 'Ms Mitchell'. So I was understandably shocked to walk into the room and see my Babe seated at the table. I barely had time to register her presence before I heard the door shut and lock behind me. I saw Brown and Santos move into my peripheral vision with their hands held up to their chests in a classic move of 'please don't shoot to kill'. Still I was debating it, the jury was out.

Then I heard Tank's voice behind me, "We've scrambled the cameras and mics, and we'll be guarding the door. You'll have to go through all three of us to get out."

Brown added, "We're willing to stay inside or stand outside, depending on what Steph wants, but you two are gonna talk. It's long overdue and we're sick of the shit you're causing each other. Steph has some things to say, and you're gonna listen. Then we'll leave you to talk and sort your shit out, unless Steph wants us to stay."

I slammed my blank face down and glared at the three of them, but their expressions didn't move. I heard Steph's voice say softly, "Please Ranger. I asked them to set this up. Please can we just talk for a while? After this, you can walk away, if that's what you really want."

My expression softened slightly as I finally looked at her. Caving, I moved forward and took the chair on the end of the table beside her. The other three settled standing beside the door. She played with a bottle of water she hadn't opened, seeming to gather her courage to speak.

"I know I'm a chickenshit when it comes to talking about my feelings. When I do talk about them, they tend to kinda burst out of me, you know? And a lot of things get screwed up." She took a deep breath, "And I screwed up the other day. You're always so guarded, so private. I always took it to mean you didn't want me to know anything about you. The little bits I do know about you, I feel like I found out by accident, or because I forced it out of you. So I felt like you didn't want me anywhere deep in your life. Just on the surface."

"And, honestly you're complete crap at communication." I couldn't deny it. "You're silent so much, and then you just say 'Babe' and I'm left wondering if I can figure out what it means. You really don't share much of yourself with me, so I can't help wondering if it's because you don't like to share, or because you don't want to share with _me_."

She continued, "And the whole thing with you, me and Morelli… It's just so fucked up. I know it's mostly my fault, but not completely. If one of you said to me 'this is exactly what I want our relationship to be' I might understand it better, but you don't. You seem to be as vague about it as I am." I winced, because it was true.

"The other day in the car, the things I said to you," she looked up from her hands for the first time, "I'm sorry that I offended you. I guess I couldn't believe that you would be with me like that, and not care that I was with Morelli too. So it felt like you didn't respect me. Him either. And I didn't feel like you should, so maybe the problem was I just couldn't respect myself." She gave a half-shrug and a sad smile, "So I tried to talk to him about it. And it degenerated into a screaming match again. Upshot is that him respecting me is no longer an issue. He threw my key at me and told me he'd get his locks changed so my key wouldn't work."

I must have twitched at that, because she looked up at me knowingly, "I know what you're going to say," she added. "Here we go again, right? But this time, whether you believe me or not, it's over forever. I decided I want to respect myself more than that, more than the convenient sex and the screaming matches and the yo-yoing. I don't think he's going to want to be friends with me anymore but I know I can't be anything else. I finally saw that, regardless of how you might feel about me, he really was treating me as a convenient fuck. And he was punishing me for Hawaii, and I was letting him, because I felt guilty about being with both of you."

She shook her head, "Les told me you got drunk. I did too, although it took me a lot less to do it!" she half-smiled. "But we can't just drink to avoid talking about this."

Steph twisted open the bottle of water and took a gulp out of it. "These guys wanted to do an intervention with you," she chuckled a little sadly. "To get you to talk about your feelings with me. But in the end I convinced them to just help me to talk to you." She smiled at me wryly, "I didn't want you to send them to a third world country just for helping me. And besides, I was pretty sure it wouldn't work anyway." I definitely winced at that. "I know I screwed up the other day, but I'd like to hope that we can still be friends. You said we were friends, and I want that, I don't want to lose that."

I reached across the table and took her hand, "You are my friend, Babe. You're one of my closest friends, and I value that friendship." I hesitated slightly, "And you can _always_ come and talk to me, you don't need these yahoos to run interference for you."

She nodded, and I could see the tears in her eyes, "I'm glad. Truly I am. And I want you to know that that's enough for me. I don't expect anything more from you." She paused for twenty seconds or so, "But I can't be anything more to you, either. It's over with Morelli, but I still need to find my self-respect. I seem to have lost that somewhere," she smiled through teary eyes. "But I hope you will stay my friend." She looked back down at her water bottle.

I looked up at the three who had remained silent through this exchange. Their almost-blank faces did not hide their discomfort and anxiety at listening to Steph's tale. I knew I owed them for getting Steph here to talk to me, and forcing me to listen and talk to her. But I was not comfortable sharing any more with them, and felt the time had come to talk to her privately. I gestured minimally to the door with my head.

Tank gave me a 'don't fuck up' look and moved to the door. Bobby and Lester followed reluctantly. I could tell they did not want to leave. Les inclined his head in a gesture I interpreted as 'take care of her'. And Bobby gave me a look, flicking his eyes to Steph's down-bent head, which said clearly that I'd better not hurt her or cause her any more pain, or I would be paying for it. I nodded at him slightly. I could take any one of them on the mats, but the three of them together might be able to beat the shit out of me if I did screw it up.

Once the door had closed behind them, I turned back to Steph. "Babe, I will always be your friend, and I am sorry for the part I played in hurting you. I am willing to give you as much time as you want, and just be your friend. I _do_ respect you, Stephanie, I want you to know that, to believe that. I _never_ thought less of you, because you were caught in that yo-yo relationship with Morelli. I worried for you, I hated when you'd go back to him, and I know I took advantage of your indecisiveness, but I _never_ thought badly of you. Or lost respect for you. I hear what you're saying about rebuilding your self-respect, but I hope you won't keep beating yourself up, because I don't think of it that way."

"I know I shouldn't have had sex with you in Barnhardt's closet like that. It was tacky. But when we're together in close quarters, my legendary self-control seems to go out the window. Or the closet door," he smiled. "I'm sorry too, you're right when you said I should have chased you back from Hawaii and told you not to get back with Morelli. Because I didn't want you to."

I sighed myself, "Babe, we're both hopeless at feelings and shit. And I know I've confused you in the past with the things I've said and done. But we're friends forever. And I hope you won't shut the gate on us being anything more. Someday." She looked up at me at that, and an expression I couldn't read flitted across her face. I continued, haltingly, "Someday to me means just that. Not never." There was a look of slight wonder in her eyes, and I realised even that had not been clear to her. "Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not this year, but _someday_ ," I said. I leaned over and kissed her gently on her lips.

"Maybe someday," she whispered.

* * *

 _A/N: I did the outline for this story about 18 months ago, and now I am struggling a bit with where to take it next. Independent Steph getting stronger? Babe hea? Both? Any thoughts or suggestions are welcome._


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